Torn Between Two Lovers Read Online Free Page A

at me made everything below my waist start to stir. I reached for him, hoping to get some more of what he’d given me earlier in the evening. Unfortunately, he gently pushed me back, shaking his head to let me know that wasn’t going to happen.
    I glanced at the clock on my nightstand and then turned toward him with a pout. I felt like I was being punished. What had I done to deserve this treatment? Had I not satisfied him? He never left this early, not on a Saturday night.
    I was pissed and didn’t bother hiding it in my tone. “You leaving already? It’s only one o’clock.”
    I immediately dropped the attitude and became quiet when he snapped his head in my direction. The angry look he gave me told me everything I needed to know. I’d broken one of his un-spoken rules: Thou shall not question Big Poppa when he’s ready to leave. I was getting a little sick of his fucking rules, and I wanted to express that, but we’d just had a really nice dinner, watched a great DVD, and had two hours of mind-blowing sex, all of which I wanted to do again sometime soon, so I was not about to raise hell. Especially since this was an argument I couldn’t win no matter what I said or did. We’d been down this road many times, and each and every time, I was the one on the losing end, begging for forgiveness. He was going home to his wife, quite possibly to have sex with her after he’d had sex with me, and all I could do was sit there with my feelings hurt, watching his sexy ass get dressed.
    â€œHow about a blow job for the road?” I asked in the sweetest of tones. If he would just let me put my lips around his dick, it would be a wrap. I guess he knew it, too, because he flat out rejected me.
    â€œJerome, don’t start.”
    Don’t start? He was walking out of my very warm bed to be with a woman who didn’t give a damn about anything but appearances, and he told me not to start? His ass hadn’t been saying that shit when he was praising my name as I sucked his dick two hours ago. Anyhow, like I said before, I was getting sick of his shit. He didn’t know it yet, but he was going to have to make a decision. My life had been one roller coaster after another the past year, and I needed some stability, with him or without him. I’d put in too much time and effort for him to keep treating me any old way.
    You see, what Big Poppa and I had was like Ray Parker Jr.’s song, “The Other Woman,” except, obviously, Big Poppa was in love with “the other man.” At least I thought he loved me, until moments like this when he got up to leave with no regard for my feelings. Something was going to have to change.
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    An hour after Big Poppa left, I was lying in the bed watching Criminal Minds reruns on A&E. I was pissed off about his leaving, no question about it, but then again, I was always pissed when Big Poppa left. However, I had a plan to improve my mood. I was a believer in that old cliché that the best way to get over a lover is to get under another one. I guess it was a good thing I had plenty of other lovers. There were none I cared about as much as Big Poppa, but what I lost in quality, I damn sure made up for in quantity. Sure, it was late and last minute, but I had men begging to get some of this. Surely one of them would be willing to leave his wife or girlfriend for some fun under the covers with the man who gave the best blow jobs in Richmond.
    I reached over to my nightstand, picked up my iPhone, and scrolled through the address book, clicking on the file aptly marked “Little Black Book.” I smiled as the list of names appeared on the screen. There were more than a hundred men’s names in it, most of whom I’d slept with at one time or another over the past twenty-five years. Some were famous; others were just conquests; many of them were financial sponsors; the majority of them were married. I had this thing for